


Not A Hallmark Heroine

by miera



Series: JB Holiday Tropes [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: Sansa wants to do a marathon of Hallmark holiday movies, and Brienne will seize any excuse to get out of it. That her excuse is the most beautiful man she's ever met is irrelevant.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: JB Holiday Tropes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608259
Comments: 27
Kudos: 191





	Not A Hallmark Heroine

**Author's Note:**

> I had no real intention of writing any holiday fic for these two, but I've been compulsively reading it for a week and this happened. I blame everyone.

Brienne snapped a picture of the wreath now hanging on the door of Sapphire Isle Conservation's front door and sent it to Sansa. The wreath was new, one Brienne had picked up the night before to add to the small number of Christmas decorations she put up at the office. She mostly tried to keep the office décor non-denominational, hence the snowmen scattered on the coffee table in the waiting area, but the wreath had seemed more professional than the Olaf window clings, which had been the only other door decoration she had found in the craft store last night.

That was what she got for waiting until two weeks before Christmas to go decoration shopping.

Sansa wrote back a few minutes later. "Pretty!" That was followed by another message, "You know what would really get you in the holiday spirit? HALLMARK MOVIE MARATHON!"

Brienne groaned. She didn't begrudge Sansa her obsession with the treacly holiday movies churned out by the Hallmark people, but that didn't mean Brienne wanted to watch hours and hours of them. She always said it was the predictability of the plots that annoyed her, but the truth was, watching those movies left her miserable. 

Every movie featured a conventionally attractive woman (young or not so young) who, no matter what obstacles existed, would end the movie happy and in love just in time for the holidays, frequently through some sort of vague "Christmas magic" that came into play. There was no harm in it, she knew, but the older she got, the harder it was to ignore how cookie cutter the actresses were. 

A woman like Brienne, for instance, would never be chosen by "Christmas magic" to get a happily ever after. Hell, for most of her life she hadn't been able to get a date, let alone true love. 

Brienne knew it was bullshit. She knew it was marketing and research churning out the predictable stories and that all of it was constructed and had no bearing on reality where people of all stripes and sizes fell in love, even people as ugly and awkward as her. She knew all of that. 

But she couldn't help it. Those movies stung. Every ending felt like a pin prick at whatever fragment of hope she still had about her love life. 

And a bunch of them in a row? It wasn't healthy to deliberately watch something that would make her that depressed. 

How, exactly, to explain to Sansa that refusing to participate in one of her favorite Christmas activities was self-care, Brienne didn't know.

She was relieved when Pod poked his head into her office and announced that her 10am appointment had arrived. 

She blamed it on Sansa putting thoughts of Hallmark movies in her head when she walked into the consultation room and froze. The most attractive man she'd ever seen in person was standing near the table. 

Her potential client was nearly as tall as her, with blonde hair and bright green eyes that roved over her turtleneck and men's jeans before noting the white lab coat she wore and relaxing slightly. There were some hints of gray in his beard and even through the facial hair she could see the sharp edge of his jaw. 

Brienne had spent a lot of time around beautiful people, between her friendships with the Starks and Tyrells as well as two years in grad school rooming with Renly, who she had always thought of as the best looking man she knew. Renly, however, still looked like a boy even now that they were both 30. This guy was a man. The expensive suit and coat he wore did nothing to hide the solid bulk of his muscles. 

The Mountain Lodge Yankee Candle post from Tumblr popped into her head. Whoever this gentleman was, he definitely fit into that class of men. 

Brienne bit down hard enough on her tongue to make herself wince to keep from giggling at the absurdity of her own thoughts. This was a business meeting, for crying out loud. She glanced at the paper she was holding. "Mr. Lannister? I'm Brienne Tarth."

Mr. Lannister held out his hand, his eyes going over her again, although mercifully he made no comment about her appearance. Instead he smiled, "Jaime, please. Mr. Lannister is my father." 

The smile set her nerves on edge. It was charming, deliberately charming, and she just knew in her gut it was practiced. How often had she seen Margaery or Loras do the same thing? 

She walked around the table, where a box was sitting. "What can we do for you?" She refrained from using his name but only barely.

"Saving Christmas, I hope." He reached over and lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a very battered copy of an illustrated book on King Arthur and the Round Table. "I want to get this restored for my brother as a present. It was his favorite book when he was a boy. Our family copy got lost, I bought this online. The seller claimed it was in 'good' condition." He snorted. "Obviously they lied through their teeth but the book is very difficult to find. It's not old enough or valuable enough for antique book dealers or museums." 

Brienne's professional eye ran over the cover as she snapped on some gloves before carefully lifting the book up. The back cover nearly fell off. She slipped her fingers around it lightly and then quickly rested the volume on the table. More to herself than him she murmured, "This book hasn't been in good condition in a hundred years, I'd wager." 

Mr. Lannister – Jaime – chuckled. 

There was water – and possibly other fluid – damage to pages as well as a bunch of torn corners and ripped pages. The covers had mold contamination, and there was evidence of other pest activity. 

It would be a challenge, but then, this was exactly the kind of challenge that had made her get into this line of work to begin with. 

As always, she was brutally honest with him. "Well, I can't say I can fully restore the book. Parts of it will need to be entirely replaced. The most I can do is make it relatively safe to handle." Getting it done before Christmas was going to be a job of work, involving overtime not just by her if she took the job. The smart thing to do would be to tell Mr. GQ Cover Model here that she could work on the book but not have it ready in less than two weeks.

Jaime leaned forward eagerly, and Brienne caught a whiff of expensive cologne despite the odor of the book. "That would be plenty. Can you do it in time? I'll pay whatever the costs are. Money is no object." 

Brienne's eyebrows went up. She didn't think she'd ever heard a person use that phrase aloud before. Though given the likely cost of his suit, she wasn't terribly surprised.

Jaime actually flushed in embarrassment as his words sank in, so that in addition to being ridiculously hot he was now also cute. It was unfair to the other men of the species that he even existed. "That, uh, didn't come out the way I intended."

Brienne couldn't help it, she laughed. "Well it got a point across, at least."

That got him to laugh too. His real smile? Was _blinding_. She was in so much trouble.

"I just meant I'm happy to pay for overtime, rush fees, that kind of thing," he said sheepishly, looking at the book. "My brother's wife is expecting, you see. She isn't due for another month and I know they won't be reading this to the baby any time soon, but it was his favorite book for years and it would mean the world to him to have it for Christmas." 

Jaime met her eyes again and Brienne felt her heart melt. Damn it. She was weak. One pretty man telling her a sob story and she was ready to do anything he asked. But he looked sincere enough, compared to the deliberate charm of earlier. 

_Focus, Tarth. This is business, not pleasure._ Her brain tried to run off down a path of various pleasures she would enjoy pursuing with this man and she bit her tongue again. "I don't want to guarantee anything, not yet. I'll need to get a closer look and estimate the work time, but I can keep you informed and let you know in a day or two? Otherwise you're welcome to try another company." There were only two other companies that did this kind of restoration work in the city, and she doubted either of them would agree to even try to meet the deadline at this point. 

_Because those companies are not run by silly saps who fall for pretty men with puppy eyes and emotional stories._

"That would be wonderful, thank you!" 

His gratitude made a blush flood her cheeks. 

They went back to the main desk and Brienne took down his information and handed him a series of forms to sign. She felt a small flutter in her chest when he provided his cell phone number and his eyes caught hers for a moment. _Stop it, you lunatic, this is business._

She took the last form from him and stood up, holding out her hand again. "That's everything for now, Mr. Lannister, I'll be in touch as soon as I know something more definitive." 

He took her hand, flashing that real smile at her again. "Jaime, please, Ms. Tarth." 

It was impossible not to smile back. She blamed the smile-blindness for what she said. "Brienne." 

He stared, not releasing her hand, long enough to make a prickle of unease run through her. "Brienne," he repeated. She had a feeling her imagination was going to recall the sound of his low, rich voice saying her name a lot. And he was still staring. "You have the most astonishing eyes." 

In all her life, whenever any person had decided to comment on her appearance, her eyes had never, ever been the first thing anyone noticed. Her height, her shoulders, her freckles, her legs, all of them always jumped out at people, who would only maybe notice her eyes once they had gotten accustomed to the rest of her. 

She flushed so much her face felt like it was on fire. If this was a Hallmark movie, she realized, this would be the moment the audience would be squealing in delight and pegging Jaime as her OTP.

At the thought, the flash of heat that had gone through her at his words was instantly doused by a chill. 

She pulled her hand back, unable to make it smoother. "Uh, thanks?"

Jaime flinched. "I'm sorry, that was… not appropriate." His eyes darted to her face and away. "True, but not appropriate," he muttered. "My apologies. Thank you for your help with the book."

"You're welcome." 

He took a step back and then turned and walked to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob. "I'll be seeing you, Brienne." 

Then he was gone.

She took a few minutes to unnecessarily review his paperwork and shuffle it over and over while the blush on her face died down. Then she went to tell Pod to take the book to the lab and get started with prep. 

The entire encounter had left her fidgety and unsettled, but at least one material benefit had come out of it. She texted Sansa, "Wish I could but special project just came in @ work. Need to put in some overtime." She added a sad face, feeling only slightly guilty about lying to her friend. 

Jaime Lannister was, however unknowingly, keeping Brienne was safe from unrealistic romantic movies, at least for this weekend.


End file.
